A Strange Chapter in Our Lives FINISHED
by kelinor
Summary: The appearance of a strange book in Post-Op provokes a reaction......
1. Revelations in the O club

A Strange Chapter in Our Lives

By Kitty Pierce

_Okay, so the bit about Tuttle isn't exactly necessary, but it was fun :P Hope you enjoy the rest of the story! Any comments, critical or otherwise, are welcomed! n.n_

"Hey, hey Beej!" gasped Hawkeye, laughing to himself and stuttering out the words over his drink. "That's a good one! Why don't you just make up a sur- surj- doctor instead to do your work!?"

"Heh, that's a good idea, Hawk!" BJ struck a pose, flailing his drink in the air and nearly tipping it on Margaret, who was giggling into her Scotch. "Make up summone! Captain Joe!"

"No no," said Hawkeye solemnly. "Captain _Tuttle._" He sniggered gently and took another drink. "Damn, that was a good one!"

Margaret focused on the dark-haired captain with faint incredulity. 

"That's not very fair to a – a – a dead man," she said indignantly. Charles raised a muzzy head. "Tussle? Tuttle? I heard ohim onech? Left all his inshura – money to the orphan place, right?"

"What a man," said Margaret, raising her glass. She looked at the helpless Hawkeye who nearly spilt his drink he was laughing so much. "Wass with you, soldier?"

"Tuttle has been my bes' friend before BJ! Since I was a little kid! You ever actually _see_ Tuttsle?" 

Margaret lowered her glass and her voice to a whisper. "Don't let on, you guys… I don't think I did …" Hawkeye turned away laughing even more and drained his drink with a flourish. 

"That is because, dearest Magr- Magresh – Magpie, Tuttle never zisted!" He giggled. BJ looked puzzled and blinked owlishly. "I heard this one. Tuttle jumped out a parachute – no, jumped out a plane withOUT a parachute, right? He existed?"

"Nope, never did," giggled Hawkeye some more. Margaret sobered up enough suddenly. Motioning to BJ and Charles, she said loudly, "We're going back now, Pierce, you want to be taken back to the Swamp?"

"Swamp rat, that's me! Rat rat rat…."

Charles staggered to his feet. "I'm int_rig_ued. What more of Captain Tuttsle?"

"Come _on_," said Margaret, taking Hawkeye firmly by one shoulder and BJ took the other. "Aw, break up the party, Margaret!" he complained loudly. The group wove their way to the Swamp, where Hawkeye was tipped onto his bunk, and Charles and BJ flopped down. Margaret shook the edges of alcohol from her voice.

"Now, buster, what the hell do you mean about Captain Tuttle?" she said sternly in her best Major voice.

"Tuttle, Tuttle, my dear imaginary friend," said Hawkeye merrily.  
"You made him _up_?" said Margaret, aghast. "How?"

"Me and Trap and Radar did it! We...we…" Hawkeye suddenly stopped as it filtered through to him what he was saying. BJ was sitting up looking interested. Charles seemed to have fallen asleep.

"Oh damn." Hawkeye said quietly. He blinked blue eyes appealingly at Margaret.

"Please please don't tell anyone!" he pleaded. Margaret tried to harden her heart, but the Major in her was soon overcome by the part of her that wholeheartedly wanted Hawkeye safe and well and out of trouble… she shook her head and gave a small smile.

"Not a word. But dammit! You have to tell me how you did it!"

"In the morning, Major... I'm too sloshed right now..."

"_Now_ or else I'm telling the MP's, Captain Pierce."

Inwardly Margaret smiled with awe. How on earth did they manage to create an entire person? And his personal record, Tuttle's description, that was him speaking…

Hawkeye sat up and shook his head carefully in case it fell off.

"You're a cruel woman, Margaret," pointed Hawkeye accusingly. "Okay, okay… lessee… Me and Trap smuggled some supplies out for Sister Tresa, and told her it was Captain Tuttle so she didn't know it was us. Right?"

"Yes…"

"Well, then we got on to making order forms for the orphans, and Cap'n Tuttle had to sign, vis a vis me. Then Radar was giving the form to Henry – good old Henry! – and he inquired whothe hell was Cap'n Tuttle. Radar, bless his Iowan socks, covered for us and told Henry that he was a new man that he'd met that morning. Henry had the custom of keeping his brain in Radar for memries, so he believed him. But then Henry made Tuttle OD. Instead of Ferret Face, remember? You and him, Margaret, was – were-  suspsps – suspishous, so we quickly had to make up a personal file! Heh, you liked the sound of that description, didn'tya Margaret?" 

Hawkeye paused to giggle gently. Margaret leaned forward, something suddenly nagging at her.

"But General Clayton said he had sent Tuttle!"

Hawkeye had the grace to look slightly red-faced. "Radar patched the call to me, and I pretended I was the general."

BJ looked interestedly between his blushing friend and the shocked major, who also began to blush furiously as well. "Oh ho! What did you sa_y,_ Hawk?" he asked delightedly.

"Highly inappropriate things," said Margaret, flicking back her hair and composing herself once more. "Well, go on, Pierce. How many more rules did you break?"

Hawkeye looked injured. "Come on, Major, it was all for the good of the orphans! All Tuttle's back pay went to the orphanage, and his GI insurance! We could have done anything with that money, but we didn't. Why don't you think about that, huh?"

"But how did you have the raw gall to stand and do that damn eulogy! You had the whole camp nearly in tears for someone who didn't bloody _exist_?"

"I must say I didn't bargain on that," admitted Hawkeye. "But I think I did pretty well, huh?" Margaret just shook her head in speechless amusement, and BJ burst out laughing.

"Gee, that was crazy Hawk! I never woulda thought of that!" The captain unsteadily raised his glass. "Here's to the most successful prank yet!" Hawkeye tipped his glass merrily in return. 

"Thanks there ol' buddy. And, Major?"

Margaret folded her arms.

"Impressive, Hawkeye. And you two scoundrels didn't steal anything, so I guess I'm not too angry. But you got the whole camp believing in him! I even thought he was real..." Hawkeye suddenly burst out laughing as a new thought struck him.

"And Henry... kept saying he'd met him for lunch! All the time! And old Ferret face wanted to be _roomies_ with an imaginary guy!" 

BJ was flopped back on his bunk giggling helplessly and Margaret started laughing too. Hawkeye pointed at her.

"See! I toldya you'd like it!"

"Oh, Pierce, just never… do that again! _Or_ impersonate Generals either!"

"Aw, come on Margaret, all for a good cause. You were so regular army back then." Glancing over to BJ's bunk, he saw his best friend fast asleep with his glass lolling out of his hand.  "And you sound gorgeous over the phone, you know that?" he said, grinning playfully. Margaret hit him.

*********************************************************************


	2. Discovery

2

Early the next morning Charles stumbled out to the latrine, holding his head carefully in one hand. He squinted blearily in the predawn light as he came slowly back, hoping for another few hours sleep, when he saw a stealthy shape slipping through the door of the Swamp ahead of him. Creeping a little closer, he heard quiet voices coming through the canvas walls, and waited outside a little longer.

"Huh? What is it? Oh, my head..."

"Sssh! Please, Hawkeye, you have to come quickly. Don't wake the others, but I'm worried…"

"I'm coming. Don't worry, Margaret, just give me a second."

Inside he heard someone moving around and decided to stumble in loudly before they wondered where he was and whether he had been listening. The major nearly ran into Hawkeye on the other side of the door, who was pulling his arm into the sleeve of his robe. The captain stepped hurriedly back.

"Hey Charles, going back to bed aren't you?"

"I believe so, early riser. Where are you off to?"

"Oh, nowhere. I'll be back in a minute, sleep well." Hawkeye leant against the doorframe until Charles had collapsed back into his cot. Margaret was sitting quietly on Hawkeye's bunk, her face pale. She slipped out after the captain, who shook his hair out of his eyes and tried to forget his pounding headache. He had been worried by Margaret's tone of voice, and had known the head nurse long enough to know when she was being serious. Standing in the middle of the dusty compound, he turned to face her. 

"Alright Margaret, what's up? Better be good, I have a headache bigger than North Korea."

Margaret looked around warily. "I'd woken up and couldn't sleep again because of this enormous hangover. So I went to Post Op for some morphine –"

"Margaret! You shouldn't do that!" He took hold of her shoulders and looked at her. "You're a fine one to talk of army rules when you – " he suddenly stopped, a disconcerted look in his blue eyes. Margaret felt a shiver run through her as she looked at him, her feelings for the man in front of her tumbling unwelcomingly to the front of her mind. She shook them back as Hawkeye looked back with a slightly sick expression.

"I didn't talk to you last night about – Tuttle, did I?"

"Shot your mouth off, buster. But that's not important right now, Hawkeye, you have to come to the Post-Op."

She stepped backwards from his hands, with a fleeting reluctance, and turned to the long room where the three remaining patients were after the last batch. Hawkeye followed her, his head too blurry to work out why she had woken him instead of the Colonel or BJ.

Stepping softly to the end of one of the beds, Margaret pointed to the soldier there. He was one of the younger ones, barely 19, kept in for a fever. He was turning in his bunk restlessly, one arm bound tightly and the other flung out holding a book with a metal edged binding. Hawkeye looked confused. 

"What's wrong, Margaret? It's just a book..."

"A book he's holding so tight as to cut his palm?" And indeed, faint bloodstains were coursing down the leather cover of the book. "And earlier he shouted out something in Korean. He's American, dammit! Why call out in Korean?"

Taking one long stride Hawkeye reached for the book. However the boy was holding on tightly, almost a death grip. He nodded swiftly to the head nurse. 

"Hold him still a minute. I want this book removed before he hurts himself more." Margaret responded silently. As Hawkeye finally removed the book, the soldier's eyes snapped open. 

"Hoi dan tai! Sao Yung!"

Hawkeye sat back in surprise. 

"You were right there, Major! Hey, Parker, calm down there," he said, leaning over the disorientated soldier. The boy's brown eyes suddenly focused.

"Good morning, Doc. Where's my book?"

Hawkeye blinked.  "Are you all right, Parker? Had a nightmare or something?"

The soldier shook his head, puzzled, before holding out his hand. "Nope. My book?"

Hawkeye grabbed his wrist. "Look, man, your whole palm is bleeding because of that book. What is it anyway?"

"A present. It's locked, and I can't read it, but it's all I got to remember my girl by! Give it back!"

Margaret spoke hurriedly.

"Parker, yesterday you told me you had no girl back home, or in Korea. And do you know any Korean?"

"The language? No ma'am. And of course I have a girl. Her name is… is…" he suddenly stopped and stared at the book, puzzlement spreading over his face. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Hawkeye exchanged a silent glance with Margaret. Parker suddenly blinked. 

"That's the book I picked up off the front line. In the bottom of our foxhole. There'd been Koreans there earlier! But we'd taken it. The sarge had been told that whole area was clear, all resistance terminated… did I say that was mine?"

Parker suddenly looked up at the two, blinked twice, and fell asleep, his arm tucked tightly against himself and a peaceful expression on his face. 

Hawkeye silently rose to his feet and beckoned to Margaret. They crept out of the Post Op, back into the crepuscular light of the compound.

"That's scaring. What's the book say, Hawkeye?" said Margaret, visibly shaken. The dark haired surgeon looked at the front of the book.  
"It's Korean, I can't read it. I'm going to open it though. This is altogether unreal for words." He padded off towards the motor pool. After a slight hesitation, Margaret followed.

Hawkeye sat down in the mess tent, and pulled the appropriated screwdriver from his pocket. Margaret sat down beside him, curious now and most of her hangover gone. His hair hanging slightly in his face, Hawkeye had an intense look of concentration and was fiddling the screwdriver on the hinges of the book.. Margaret stopped herself staring and looked back at the book.

"Ah hah!" said Hawkeye, a look of satisfaction on his face as the metal bindings fell off and he pocketed the screwdriver. He looked at the book on the table in front of him.

"Well go on! Open it!" said Margaret impatiently.

It turned out to be some kind of diary. Margaret managed to work out what the symbols sounded like, but not what they meant. Hawkeye tugged at the back page, and a photograph fell out. A beautiful Korean girl smiled out at them, and Margaret carefully read the simple syllables beneath it.

"Sao Yung."

The two looked at each other, and then glanced over in the direction of the Post Op.

The book sat innocently on Margaret's bedside table. She lay on her bed looking at the canvas ceiling, thoughts rolling round in her head. Something had taught Parker those words, and how did he know Sao Yung was the name of the girl in the book if he had never opened it? Sleepless she turned over, watching the golden bars of sunrise creep through her door pane.

Hawkeye put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but that book scared him. He forced his thoughts back to the hazy recollections of the previous evening. Oh God, he had told Margaret about Tuttle. And BJ, and Charles. Damn and double damn. And that phone call…He was suddenly aware of Charles sitting up and looking interestedly at him.

"What is it, Chuck?" he said tiredly. Charles narrowed his eyes but ignored it.

"Where were you off so early this morning, Pierce? With our beloved head nurse following your footsteps?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Charles?" retorted Hawkeye, not really in the mood for once. "Okay, there was a little trouble in Post-Op. If you want a witness, ask Parker. He was the one with the problems. I was thinking about calling in Sidney…"

Charles settled back disappointed. He was certain he had caught some juicy gossip. Unknown to his tent mates, he had once retrieved a letter from the stove where it hadn't quite burnt. It was in Hawkeye's handwriting, and it was various scrubbed out statements and sentiments concerning the blonde nurse. He was sure Hawkeye had a thing for her, and what an opportunity that had been this morning! But no, it was boring Post-Op duties. Damn war. Charles sniffed and turned over again as the faint streamers of dawn sunlight filtered through the door.

*********************************************************************


	3. More Wounded

3

Attention, all Personnel! Incoming wounded, and I'm too tired to comment…

Hawkeye yawned and threw his cap across the scrub room, where it landed neatly in the laundry basket.

"Good shot, son!" said Colonel Potter, attempting to throw his hat there also. BJ picked it up from the floor and chucked it into the basket along with his bloodstained smock. "Short shift for a change, huh?"

"Only eleven hours! A record for the army. Maybe this police action is turning into an un-war."

"If we're lucky."

"True, true."

"Augh!" broke in Charles, throwing his scrubs away from him with an expression on disgust. "I hate this place! Why are we discussing an eleven hour shift to be _short_! Oh, for Tokyo, and the peaceful strains of Rachmaninov…" he stomped off.

"Hey, Charles, coming for supper? What about you, Hawk?" called BJ.

"I think I'll give it a miss, I'd prefer to die in my bed," said Hawkeye, yawning again. BJ shrugged. "Suit yourself. I'm starving."

Hawkeye waved the others off to the mess tent, walking tiredly back to the Swamp. Suddenly he heard a soft scream, and the thud of something hitting the door he was just passing. He knocked before entering.

"Margaret, are you all right?" he demanded, finding the blonde major curled against the wardrobe sobbing, as far from the door as possible. When she didn't reply he went and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulder. She hugged him tightly, crying on his shoulder and letting her terror out like a five year old child. Eventually she pulled back and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She pointed a tremulous finger at the book sprawled on the floor by the door.

"Hawkeye, get that away from me…" she said, her voice strange. Hawkeye jumped to his feet and picked up the book by its spine. He didn't ask any questions, but threw it across the compound before returning to Margaret.  He sat down again.

"What happened, Margaret?" he asked gently. The nurse took a deep breath and calmed her breathing before replying.

"I had just returned from the OR, and I didn't feel like any food."

"The food doesn't feel like food."

"That's why I didn't go. Anyway, I sat down on my bunk. I was so tired, I was half dozing as I sat there… and then I heard Korean voices. I froze, because they didn't sound friendly and I could hear gunfire in the background. I thought our camp was being attacked!" She paused as if daring him to deny her, but Hawkeye said nothing.

"I then heard a voice speaking in English, so loud is was like inside my own head, and I thought I saw that girl – Sao Yung – open my door. I was so scared by this time, I just picked up the book and threw it! What is it, Hawkeye? We have to burn it, it's not real!" her breath started becoming more ragged, and the surgeon held her close again.

"I'll go and burn it now, Margaret," he said comfortingly. "And I'll call Sidney Freedman, and ask what's the deal. No, I don't think you're going mad," he added at the look on her face. "I'm more worried about Parker. He was the one speaking Korean. No, you go and get some food, talk to the Colonel and BJ, get this out of your mind before you sleep. Oh, and don't eat the lamb. I saw a cat wander into the kitchen yesterday and not come out." He grinned and was rewarded by a weak smile from Margaret, who got to her feet 

"Okay, Hawkeye. I'll do that. And, Hawkeye - "

He looked up at her from his seat on the floor.

" – thankyou," she finished lamely, before closing the door quietly behind her.

Charles rolled his eyes and left BJ and the Colonel laughing uproariously at one of Potter's wisecracks. Turning off to the Swamp, he stumbled over a book covered in dust and a page torn. Picking it up, he saw the title was in Korean, and sniffed. Pocketing it in his jacket without another thought, he wandered back over to the Swamp, lifting a hand to acknowledge Major Houlihan just going in to the mess tent. Opening the door,  he sneaked over to the other side of the room and picked up Hunnicutt's glass. They'd stolen his Cognac; damned if he was going without a drink tonight, and he was too tired to walk over to the Officer's Club. Taking a sip, he grimaced at the raw spirit before folding his jacket over the back of the chair and put on his light. Some music would be nice, he thought, rummaging amongst his records.

Hawkeye kicked at a stone impatiently. The book had vanished off the face of Korea. This didn't entirely surprise him, the book was too scary for words in that sense. BJ came out of the mess tent  and looked surprised at his friend.

"Kicking Korea to kingdom come, Hawk?" he inquired.

"Nah, just thinking, that's all," said Hawkeye moodily.

"Better stop that. Don't you know the army forbids that kind of thing?" BJ replied, taking Hawkeye's shoulder and turning him back to the Swamp. "I thought you were dead tired."

"Dead, yes, tired, even more. You're right," said Hawkeye, not bothering to resist as he was propelled back to his tent. Arriving there, BJ yawned and without a pause lifted Charles's record player off the record, took back his glass from the major's hand, and sat back down. Charles blinked.

"Thanks for getting me a drink Charles! Much appreciated," said BJ, raising the glass to the annoyed major.

"Now see here – " started Charles.

"I'm too tired to argue, even with you, Charles, so shut up," interrupted Hawkeye, lifting a jacket from the back of the chair and shoving it under his pillow, fluffing it up before collapsing onto the bed and closing his eyes almost immediately. BJ shrugged, and Charles opened his mouth to protest, but BJ laid a finger to his lips.

"Sssh! It's sleep time!" he stated in a stage whisper before putting down his glass. Looking at his sleeping friend, he wondered if he should make Hawkeye take off his boots at least, but decided he probably needed the sleep more.

*********************************************************************


	4. Dreaming

4

Hawkeye woke to what he thought was the faint sound of shells booming in the hills. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and looked around the darkened tent. It was still night; Charles was bundled up over the other side of the tent, and BJ was sleeping with his mouth open, snoring faintly. Hawkeye shook his head trying to break off the feeling of uneasiness. Hitting his pillow experimentally, he moved Charles' jacket underneath. No wonder he couldn't sleep, Charles was keeping a library in his pockets. He tipped it out and stared at the dark book in his hand.

A rattle of machinegun fire made Hawkeye jump to his feet and stare behind him. A Korean voice barked a sharp order, and many voices replied. Hawkeye stumbled blindly out into the compound, trying to escape the voices, and spun round to see a young Korean woman walk slowly towards him, her hand outstretched and her smiling face dissolving into the black and white of photographs.

"AAAH! Sao Yung!" shouted Hawkeye, falling to his knees and hiding his face. Looking up in terror, the beautiful face before him shimmered into that of Klinger's curious nose. He took a deep breath, and passed out.

"By all that's holy, captain, what a noise!" said Klinger, dropping to his knees alongside the fallen surgeon.  Hawkeye sat up groggily and grabbed the clerk's arm. 

"Klinger, thank god it's you," he said, a nervous laugh in his voice. "What are you doing up so late?"

"I was reading because I couldn't sleep, heard someone else outside so I thought I'd take a look," said the bewildered Lebanese.

"No… Koreans?"

"Not as far as I can see, sir," said Klinger anxiously, looking up at the sleepy BJ who was standing in the doorway, and Margaret who had hurried over. 

"Was that Hawkeye shouting?" she asked, curiously.

"Yeah, are you alright, Hawkeye?" said BJ concerned, coming over to where his friend was sitting. Hawkeye smiled weakly. "I guess just a bad dream." He looked down and suddenly realised he was holding a leather-bound book. He dropped it as if he had been scalded and raised terrified eyes to Margaret, who sat down rather suddenly on the floor. Klinger stared. 

"Is there something wrong with you too, major?" he asked incredulously. Just then Potter came out, tying his dressing gown and looking irate.

"All right, what's all the kerfuffle about, folks? Can you not see the night outside meaning it is zed time?" he said. Hawkeye scrambled to his feet, giving Margaret a hand up. "Just a bad dream, Colonel. Though I'd like you to put through a call to Sidney Freedman."

"Why, you going mad, Pierce?"

Hawkeye managed a smile. "No, it's for Parker in Post-Op. I think he needs someone to talk to."

Colonel Potter narrowed his eyes but nodded understandingly. "All right, Pierce, but go back to bed! All of you!" he said, looking around. BJ shrugged and went back inside, Klinger wandered off to his office. Margaret caught Hawkeye's arm.

"Did I hear you say Sao Yung?" she asked in a low whisper. Hawkeye nodded slowly.

"Did you...dream…"

"Of Koreans, and guns, and that girl. Margaret, I…"

She laid a trembling finger on his lips. "Don't say any more. I'm fed up with this damn book and these damn dreams. Let's burn it. Now. Don't let it out of your sight, I'm going for some matches, I'll be back pretty soon." She left like a pale wraith in the dark compound. Hawkeye drew in a deep breath. The book was ignored near completely as he stared after her. The feel of her soft finger still lingered on his lips, and those painful feelings suppressed for so long fought their way out. How could he bear living here any longer without telling her? He shook his head dazedly and tried to calm his wildly beating heart, whether from the dream, the shock or newer feelings. He stared fixedly at the dark shape of the book, nearly crying out in alarm when he felt a touch on his arm. Margaret looked concernedly up at him. He managed a smile, once more his roguish façade hiding his true feelings.

"It's a shame we have no marshmallows for our campfire," he commented as the first flames licked round the dusty pages. The two of them sat on the earthen floor in the dark of the centre of the compound, the firelight adding flickering shadows and golden highlights to their hair and faces. Unthinking Hawkeye held out his arm, and Margaret leant into his half embrace, his breath just stirring her hair and her ear against his green drab jacket. They sat watching the tiny fire, golden flames slowly consuming the object of their fear. Hawkeye could no longer bear it. He turned his head and gently kissed the nurse in his arms. For a moment Margaret looked shocked. He leant away, stammering apologies, his blue eyes searching for something in her face. Margaret was inscrutable in the shadows. Then, slowly, she put her hand to his face and drew him back to kiss him deeply, letting all her hidden love and feelings show themselves for this dark haired man before her. He responded by wrapping his other arm around her and holding her closely as he kissed her back with all his heart.

Beside them, a photograph of a pretty Korean girl curled slowly into ashes as the flames withdrew from it.

Hawkeye closed the door of the Swamp dazedly, and leant against it, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. BJ, who was sitting up with a book waiting for his friend to return, looked at him quizzically.

"Where did you go? Put the phone call through?" he asked. Hawkeye looked at him confused a minute. 

"Um, no, I was burning the book," he said, his eyes fixed in space and a small smile on his face. BJ put his head on the side.

"Book? That book you dropped?"

"I never told you about the book, did I," said Hawkeye, wandering over and sitting on his bunk. Taking another breath, he focused on his friend and quickly started outlining the story of the book, glad for an excuse for his strange expression. BJ sat back with a profoundly sceptical look on his face.

"That sounds very odd, Hawk. Are you sure?"

"You think Parker, Margaret and I all had the same dream because we're all going mad? I don't think so, it's that book. And howinhell did Parker know Korean?"

"I guess," said BJ, looking confused. "Are you going to tell Sidney Freedman about it?" 

Hawkeye sighed. "It came to mind."

Charles threw off his cover and sat up yawning. 

"It is entirely too early to be awake," he stated. "Is there a reason why the light is on?"

"Not really," said BJ quickly, reaching up and putting out the light. 

"_Jolly_ good," said Charles, huddling up the blanket. Hawkeye sat back in the dark, his mind running in circles, remembering that kiss. And then Margaret had gently got up when the fire died, and leaving a lingering hand on his face slipped back to her own tent. He sighed and drifted into sleep once more, the horrors of the dream forgotten in this blaze of new interest.

*********************************************************************


	5. All's Well That

5

"So you see, Sidney, we didn't know what to do. So we burnt it."

Margaret looked anxiously at the psychiatrist's face. Sidney Freedman put one hand on his head. He, Margaret and Hawkeye were sitting at the end of the Post-Op ward, quietly discussing the facts. He smiled and asked a question.

"Were you both quite scared by the book at first?"

"I guess," said Hawkeye, looking at Margaret who nodded in agreement. Sidney smiled wider.

"Well then, there's not much to worry about."

"There's not?"

Sidney looked shrewdly between the two of them, the way Margaret's hand had unconsciously slid into Hawkeye's, which gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"I tell you why this is strange. I've worked out from Parker, that he was part of the troop that cleared the foxhole. It wasn't empty when he got there. In his dreams he relived the moment and the last words of the Korean soldier he had to kill. Parker was overcome with guilt, realising that the soldier he had killed was someone's son, someone's brother, someone's husband. 'Sao Yung' were the last words of the Korean."

"So that explains Parker, but why us?" said Hawkeye, leaning forward. Sidney held up a hand and continued.

"Margaret was more affected by the book than you, Hawkeye. Were you very sleepy that morning, Major?"

"I had a very bad hangover," admitted Margaret.

"And the thought of the book scared you and made a deep imprint. When you came back tired out from OR in the evening, you sat down. Do you remember picking up the book?"

"I didn't."

"But you then threw it across the room without picking it up?"

Margaret opened her mouth, but shut it again and nodded. "I guess I must have then."

"Right. You then fell into REM sleep almost immediately, the last thing being the book that you thought of. You mind supplied the voices and the gunfire, the scene being so vivid to you. And that girl. You thought she was haunting the book or something, didn't you?"

The major nodded a little guiltily.

"That was why you dreamt of it being so lifelike. When you woke up, you were certain it was haunted and tried to get the book, that you thought was the problem, away from you."

"Does that mean I'm going crazy?" said Margaret, her voice rising above the quiet level the three had been using. Hawkeye put his hand on her arm, and she quietened down again. Sidney shook his head.  
"You were just tired, Major. It happens. Now, the book was thrown across the compound, right?"

"Yup," said Hawkeye impatiently, waiting for the explanation.

"Major Winchester must have picked it up after that, that's why you couldn't find it. Now, if anything, Hawkeye, you were more tired than Margaret. But - " Sidney paused again and looked at the two of them. 

"If I'm not mistaken, you care a lot for the major, no?"

Margaret blushed, and Hawkeye laughed nervously and said "Well, of course Major Charles is like my second best friend!" Margaret narrowed her eyes and looked accusingly at Hawkeye. He caught her look.

"I'm sorry, Margaret. I guess he's right," he mumbled, looking at the floor. Margaret smiled a smug smile to herself. Sidney cleared his throat and the pair looked up, suddenly all interested in the story again and definitely not each other.

"Well, as I was saying, you were thinking about Margaret and her problem as you fell asleep, because you couldn't find the book and you didn't want her upset. That's why you thought you heard guns and you half woke up."

"You mean I was still asleep when I found the book in Charles's pocket?"

"In a way, yes. The entire dream was not triggered until you actually saw you had been sleeping with that book under your pillow, was it? So that is why you had the same dream as Major Houlihan. If you had asked, Parker actually had a completely different dream from you."

"We were so busy that day," defended Margaret.

"I'm sure you were, Major, I wasn't saying you weren't. What I'm saying is that you shouldn't worry, that it happens to all exhausted people in such conditions as you two. You just had the strange book as a kind of catalyst."

Hawkeye breathed out and leant back in his seat.

"So we're not crazy. I guess that we didn't need to burn the book then?"

"If you hadn't, I'm sure you would have thought of the book again after you had gone back to bed. Instead, you were probably thinking about something else as you fell asleep. Right?"

"Uh, well, maybe," said Hawkeye, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and reddening a little. Margaret let out a stifled giggle as she remembered what she had been thinking of and Hawkeye's reaction.

"And you didn't dream."

"I did," volunteered Margaret.

"But not of the book."

"Uh – no," said Margaret, keeping a straight face and trying not to give away what – or rather who – she had been dreaming of.

"There! Problem sorted," smiled Sidney, getting to his feet and yawning. "Now, would there be any food, or shall I go back to sit with Parker?"

"I would sit with Parker," advised Hawkeye, tucking his hands in his white coat and wandering over to read the file on the end of a bed. "I'm sure you don't want to _become_ the patient when you develop anti-army food allergies." Sidney laughed.

"I suppose not. But I'm still hungry. Coming, Major?" the psychiatrist asked.

"In a minute," smiled Margaret back. "Go on ahead, I'll be there soon."

 Sidney grinned back and closed Post-Op door behind him. The head nurse came and stood beside Hawkeye, who was studiously examining the clipboard in front of him without actually seeing it.

"Thinking about something else, were you?" she said lightly, peering over his shoulder. Hawkeye put his head on the side and looked back at her, his blue eyes full of laughter. "You dreamt of something?" he retorted, grinning widely. Margaret raised her eyebrows. 

"I could have been dreaming about home for all you know, Captain Pierce," she said archly, following as he started walking to the door. Hawkeye turned round suddenly so she nearly bumped into him. "Did you?" he said, an attractive one-sided smile on his face as he looked at her.

"What do you think?" said Margaret, smiling coyly. He didn't reply but instead kissed her before walking back towards the office, whistling jauntily. Margaret half smiled, but half steamed at the cheek of the man. But that was his own type of charm, wasn't it? I must change that, said Margaret severely to herself. Along with other things, like those awful groucho glasses. Without realising the import of what she was thinking, she hurried off to the mess tent.

_Yup, that's the end! Comments are appreciated, or just random grumbles which is all I'm bound to get :P My A levels are getting a little heavy at the moment though… mail to kelinordragon@hotmail.com if you really want to ^^ thanks for reading!_


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